


Whispers in the Night

by timeladyofletters



Series: John Doe [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Blood, F/M, Fluff, Mentions of Sex, a bunch of cuteness, but no actual smut, kinda creepy but not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-10
Updated: 2015-10-10
Packaged: 2018-04-25 16:08:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4967461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timeladyofletters/pseuds/timeladyofletters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean gives Y/N a massage before bed. Cuteness ensues. Followed by a bit of creepy. I suck at summaries.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Whispers in the Night

**Author's Note:**

> The POV is a little different in this one (third person, leaning a bit more towards Dean’s perspective rather than the Reader’s). There’s a reason for that ;)

Research, research, research. That was what the entire day had consisted of. No hunts, no fun, just flipping through the seemingly endless amounts of tomes that the Men of Letters had collected over the years. But even after almost 15 hours of reading, no one could figure out what the monster of the week was.

“Alright, I’m calling it,” Dean groaned, tossing another book in the ‘already read’ pile. “If there ain’t no lore on a monster that only eats left hands and right feet in this archive, then there ain’t no lore on it anywhere else. Period. I say we hit the hay and start fresh tomorrow.”

Sam didn’t react, and continued reading as if he didn’t hear a word Dean said. Though, he probably really didn’t hear him.

Y/N sighed, stretched her arms over her head, and let out a yawn. “Yeah, I’m with you. My eyes are so heavy, I can’t even read the words anymore.”

Dean waited for her to stand up, and when she did, he wrapped an arm around her slumped shoulders. “Goodnight Sam,” they both called out to the younger Winchester, who was so immersed in his book that he didn’t even realize they had left.

When Dean and Y/N got to their room, they wasted no time in getting ready for bed; teeth were brushed and clothes were changed in record time. As she settled into the bed, Y/N couldn’t help but hiss at the stiff pain in her joints and muscles. Of course, this did not go unnoticed by Dean.

“Does it still hurt, babe?” he asked, brow furrowed with concern.

She let out a sigh as she rubbed at her sore shoulder. “Yeah. Who’d have thought that being thrown through a window would hurt so bad.”

“Damn werewolf,” Dean grumbled, remembering the terror he felt when he saw her being flung outside of that old cabin; glass and wood splintering into a million pieces and flying everywhere. Thankfully, she walked away with minimal injuries. “Here, let me help.”

Y/N sat in front of Dean on the bed - legs crossed, back straight, and head bent forward to give him better access to the painful areas. Dean lowered the straps of her tank top, slathered his hands in Y/N’s favorite lotion, and then placed his hands on her shoulders. He started slow, squeezing her muscles gently while this thumbs stroked firm circles into her upper back.

What started out as pain soon turned to pleasure as Dean worked out the knots and stiffness. Y/N’s breathing deepened, and her eyes became heavy as the relaxation took hold. Suddenly, Dean stopped.

“Why’d you stop?” she asked him with a yawn.

She could feel him shaking behind her, and would have been worried if it weren’t for the weird noises he was making - the sounds of stifled laughter.

“You make sex noises when you get massages!” he exclaimed, full-on laughing now.

Y/N gasped, face turning red as a blush crept over her features. “No I don’t!”

“Yeah Y/N, you do,” Dean beamed. “It’s pretty adorable though.”

“Those weren’t my sex noises.”

“Baby, I think I know your sex noises better than anyone.”

“Or really?” Y/N asked, swapping out her embarrassment for a more seductive tone. It could have been the sensual touching, or the amount of times they had said the words “sex noises” in the past thirty seconds, but she was suddenly in  _the mood._  “Prove it.”

Without wasting a moment, Dean began to kiss along her shoulders, where his hands had been just minutes before. He trailed his lips up her neck, and nibbled at the sweet spot just below her ear. When she let out a moan, he smiled into her skin. Wanting to face him, Y/N whipped around, and cried out in pain from the sudden movement. Dean stopped kissing her immediately, not wanting to hurt her further. 

“I’m fine, keep going,” Y/N muttered. She reached up and very slowly wrapped her arms around Dean’s neck, as if moving like that were difficult. 

Dean let out a sigh, knowing how stubborn she could be when it came to her own health. So instead of arguing, Dean leaned in and pressed his lips to hers. His hand went to Y/N’s back, in order to support her weight as he slowly lowered her onto the pillows. Then he sat up, gazing down at her, reached down her body, and pulled the blanket over her.

“Wha- hey!” Y/N cried out in disappointment.

Dean smirked as he settled into his side of the bed. “I don’t think so, babe. No “proving it” until you’re all better.”

“Deaaaannnn!” she whined, frustrated that he left her hanging like that.

“Nope! Sorry, doctor’s orders.”

“You’re not even a doctor.”

Pulling her close and kissing her head, Dean let out a soft chuckle. “I have a fake medical licence that says otherwise.”

They were both fast asleep in under a minute.

A few hours later, Dean stirred awake slowly. He rubbed the grogginess from his eyes, and froze when he heard something odd.

 _“Dean...”_  the voice was a whisper, barely there, yet he knew he heard it. He lay still in the bed, not daring to move, and then he heard it again.  _“Dean...”_  It was a soft feminine voice and it echoed all around him, making it impossible to tell what direction it was coming from.

Quietly, Dean called to Y/N beside him, but she didn’t hear him. “Y/N, wake up. I think I heard something.” He placed a palm on her arm, and jerked back at the ice cold of her skin. “Baby?” he croaked, shaking her slightly, yet she wouldn’t budge. 

Something was horribly wrong.

“Y/N!” Dean turned her to her back, and what he saw sucked the air right out of him. Y/N was cold and pale, and there was a gash on her forehead. Blood trickled down her face, staining the pillows beneath her. Her eyes were open and blank, staring at nothing.

“Nononono! Y/N!” Dean cried out, holding her face, looking for even the tiniest sign of life. Then her cloudy eyes moved, and locked onto his own.

 _“Dean...”_ the voice whispered again, though this time, the words came from Y/N’s mouth.  _“How could you forget me, Dean?”_

Dean jolted awake in a cold sweat, his heart racing in his chest. He ran a shaky hand down his face as he let himself calm down from the dream, from the nightmare. That was the seventh time he’d had a dream like that in the past ten months, and it was almost as if it meant something. The dreams always started differently, happily, but then became terrifying; ending in the exact same way every time. And they always involved the same person. Slowly, he looked over to the other side of his bed, only to find it empty. 

“Of course it’s empty,” he muttered to himself. “Who the hell else would be there?”

_Y/N._

The name of the girl in the dream had been stuck in his mind for months now, but he had no idea where it came from. He had even asked Sam once if he knew a Y/N, but his answer was no. Whoever she was, she couldn’t be real, could she?

And that was what Dean Winchester thought about as he waited for sleep to claim him again; alone in his bed, with no clue as to who the woman from his dreams could possibly be.

*******************************************************************

You stumbled into a motel room on the other side of the country, clutching an old t-shirt to the gash on your forehead. Thankfully, the wound wasn’t too deep, but you were pissed at yourself for letting a lowly ghost get the better of you. 

You were off your game and you knew it, yet there was no way that you were going to ask for help. All of your hunter friends knew Dean, and Dean didn’t know you. Not anymore. Not after what you did to save his life.

It had been ten months since that fateful day at the hospital, ten months since you walked away from the only man you’d ever loved; and you’d spent every moment lost in memories of him.

Too bad he didn’t remember you.

 

**Author's Note:**

> So clearly, I'm not sticking to my original plan of "John Doe" ending in the way that it did. There will be ONE more part to the story, so stay tuned!


End file.
